


No World for Tomorrow

by soloproject



Series: Blood Red Summer [2]
Category: The Following
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:57:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soloproject/pseuds/soloproject
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Ryan reevaluates the situation and Mike is the little agent that could.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No World for Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> No World for Tomorrow, Coheed and Cambria: _Have mercy on the cowards, boys // The brave to have it lose // Help us, this world's now breaking_
> 
> I have to worship and thank my friend Nat, who held my hand. Her tumblr is [here](http://www.spacefeels.tumblr.com) and please shower her with notes and follows. SHE IS A GREAT AMAZING PERSON.

The first few nights, Ryan does nothing more than come over. For security reasons agents on leave aren’t privy to bureau business but Ryan fucks it anyway, and reads dossiers out loud to Mike while Mike smiles weakly from his La-Z boy. They argue about everything and when Ryan jokes about Mike avoiding brain damage, Mike’s smile slips just a little and the ease between them flushes with tension again.

Mike wasn’t joking about being a bachelor or having a dog, either. The terrier mix is named Bobby and even though Ryan hates dogs, especially in line with recent events, he throws it into the mix of excuses he has to come visit, tidy the place, stock the pantry—any reason to come over, he’ll take it. If Mike notices, he says nothing but he does comment occasionally and he texts Ryan when he has family or friends over so Ryan can avoid all of them. 

When he runs out of reasons, he starts bringing DVDs and beer over and Mike sleeps through at least half the box sets that now litter his apartment. He’s getting better, soldiering on in therapy faster than the average man but Mike is fit, he’s young and he’s in great shape. Ryan looks at his own pale body in the mirror at him and all he sees is a washed up old man covered in scars. His pacemaker is a sight he’s used to but he wonders, like he’s wont to do when he’s alone with his thoughts and a bottle of vodka, whether or not he can see himself again through the eyes of Claire, or Mike, or even, Joe Carroll.

In short, Ryan often wonders if he’s still a worthy opponent. 

The thing about hanging out with Mike is Ryan always goes home, no matter how late. Mike doesn’t seem to mind his comings and goings and has already casually given up the location of his spare key. Ryan feels a bit sorry because 80% of the time, he’ll leave after Mike’s fallen asleep on him. Ryan tells himself he wants to spare Mike the trouble of giving up his hospitality. He’s already given enough in, literally, blood, sweat and tears and tolerance. 

Ryan’s running out of reasons to sit with Mike and lose himself in the discourse of their relationship. There are only so many TV shows they can watch and only so many times he can nervously watch Mike sleep before he’s sure it’s OK to go home. 

“So,” Mike finally says, hobbling to the counter where Ryan is intently watching a frozen pizza bake in the oven. “You can sleep over, you know, it’s cool.” He says it casually, same way he scratches his butt in front of Ryan or talks baby talk to Bobby and drools when he passes out.

Ryan shouldn’t be observing any of these but it’s too late for any of that. “Only if you make it to the bed so I can have the couch.”  


Mike chuckles. “I will do my best.”

They eat pizza and drink beer while watching DVR’d episodes of the Kardashians, which Mike likes unironically. According to Mike, he likes to imagine making civilian protection plans for each of the characters that would work best in their high profile scenarios. “Keeps my mind at work,” Mike says, around a mouthful of pizza. True to form he falls asleep on Ryan’s shoulder not even half an hour later, while the big Kardashian sister screams at the pregnant one on the screen. 

Ryan wakes up with cottonmouth to Mike stirring up from where they’d fallen asleep sitting up. Mike just gets up and ambles into his bedroom, not even bothering to close the door as he takes a piss. Ryan chooses that moment to leave without saying anything.

 

On the surface, Mike seems ok. When he’s recovered enough to come to work and the psychiatrist clears him for desk duty, Ryan shoots him so many looks that Mike snaps, “what!?” at him and grumpily turns his back on him. Later, Mike brings him a cup of coffee with a sorry look on his face and Ryan glares back and ignores him in turn, even though he takes the coffee.  


They pointedly ignore each other at work until Parker breaks the reverie and insists they go out for a drink to celebrate Mike’s return. They head over to a pub and order terrible bar food and a round of beers, trying to awkwardly maneuver the conversation around anything other than work. Parker makes a face when her beers turns lukewarm and calls for a round of whiskey on the rocks.  


“To our brave little soldier,” she says, warmly.

They all clink glasses and she excuses herself to go to the ladies’ room. Ryan turns in time to see Mike down the drink and set the glass down with a clatter, hand white with pressure around it, shaking. Ryan quickly gathers Mike up into his arms and squeezes him, while the younger agent shakes fit enough to break his heart. Mike presses his face into Ryan’s shoulder and there’s a damp patch spreading on his shirt. 

Joe Carroll has finally torn a gash in Mike, just like he did in Ryan, all those years ago.

“Is everything ok?” Parker says, as she returns to the table.

“I think Mike’s done for tonight. I’ll bring him home,” Ryan says, quickly. He ignores Parker’s look and gathers up their junk. His own whiskey’s been abandoned on the table, untouched.

 

Mike shakes all the way home, his breath coming up in small gasps. Ryan manages to guide him into the apartment short of bodily hauling the man. Mike’s keeping it together remarkably well, nothing more than the obvious redness of face and tremor running through his body. Ryan insists Mike take a shower but Mike heads straight to bed, not bothering with his shoes and jacket, just curling up into a ball. Ryan pulls Mike’s shoes off and yanks out the duvet to throw over his body. 

He reaches out to turn the lights off.

“Don’t go, Ryan,” Mike asks. He doesn’t sound broken or needy but he also sounds incredibly young, with the gumption of a young man who has accepted facing his monsters.  


“I’ll be on the couch, kid.” Ryan tells him and then pulls the duvet over Mike’s body. Mike shakes his head and tosses his head towards the empty space on—okay, the uncharacteristically large bed—and in the end Ryan shucks off his shoes and lies down on top of the covers. Mike reaches out to grab his hand and falls asleep after while Ryan stares at the ceiling until the sun goes up.


End file.
